day. The iron strictness with which Sunday must be kept, made every Puritan look on that occasion as if two fast-days had met in one. The hour of rising was remarkably late; and nothing like hurry was seen in the house. Nature found a relief in this. When the milking was over, and "the chores done," the quiet breakfast gathers the sober family around the table, where the usual provisions are spread, and where, at the end of the meal, the mother surprises her sons with a fresh-baked apple-pie, smoking from a two-quart earthen dish. This argument, addressed to the stomach, the children readily comprehend; and each one takes his slice in his hand, and, without winking, proceeds to business. Breakfast being finished, the morning worship is now to be offered. The father takes the family Bible; calls his little daughter to look over him as he reads; and then, in slow and reverent tone, reads two or three chapters from the New Testament. Careful not to kneel and not to sit, the family all stand up while the father, in extemporaneous prayer, thanks the Giver of every good for his bounties, confesses his sins with hu mility and penitence, asks for pardon through a divine Redeemer, supplicates for the new heart and new life. of the gospel, and prays for the heavenly guidance. In these general expressions, he does not forget to thank God especially for the religious freedom enjoyed in America, and to implore that Popery, Episcopacy, and all other heresies, may be for ever kept out of his true church here. There is now an

hour before it will be necessary to start for meeting; and this hour is occupied by the children in committing to memory a few verses from the Bible, or a hymn from Sternhold and Hopkins, or a page from the Catechism. The mother spends the hour in teaching her little daughter some Christian history, or telling her the story of Joseph from the Old Testament. The father hears the other children say their lessons, and acts as the superintendent of this first and best of Sunday schools. The hour has now arrived for the whole family to leave for the meeting-house; and, whether it be in this plantation or the next, there is no apology available for absence from public worship. God's command, and the penalties of the statute-law, decide this case without equivocation. If the weather be fair, the children walk, be the distance one mile or three. Each one is dressed in the full Sunday attire, and feels it of paramount importance not to tear or soil it. They all keep together. The father mounts

his horse, and then takes his wife upon a pillion behind him. If it be rainy, the oxen are hitched to the cart, and chairs and logs make seats within it; and thus the family go together. If the father be one of the appointed "watchers," then he must take his gun and ammunition, and be ready to repel any savage attack. Public worship began at eleven o'clock; and the morning service was a glass and a half long; that is, it ended at half-past twelve. The half-hour of intermission was spent in and around the meeting-house; and friends met there that could not get within speaking distance at any other time. The young folks were apt to huddle up together, and did not always talk about religion. The services of the afternoon were concluded at half-past two; and our family on the banks of the Mystic have reached home in one hour afterwards. The pillion, for safe keeping, is put under the bed, the saddle hung up in the barn, and the horse turned out to pasture. The family are now ready for a meal, which unites dinner and supper; and forth from the oven come that pot of beans with its coronal pork, and that Indian pudding, all perfectly done, having been in prison about twenty-four hours. Grace being said, the pudding is the first dish; and it is a delicious dish too. The color of the pudding is a deep, rich amber; and the juice or jelly is abundant. Hunger is the best sauce; but it does not need that to make this savory. Two plates-full apiece scarcely satisfy the young folks. The beans come next; and this strong and hearty food is eaten with a relish; though it will taste better to-morrow, when no pudding precedes it. When the dinner seems to be over, the mother opens the table-drawer; and lo! a nice apple-pie! Appetite comes again at the sight of new delicacies; and it takes no logic to convince the children that a slice of that pie will do them good. During the dinner, they have talked about those they saw at meeting, and each narrated what news he had found. The father had heard how much money was sunk by Mr. Cradock in his fishing speculation; and the reading boy had brought home "J. Janeway's Address to Citizens of London, after the Great Fire of 1666," just published. The first act after Sunday dinner was to take off the Sunday clothes. Each one does this; and then the mother assembles her children around her, each seated on his block; and she hears them repeat the Catechism, and then endeavors to impress their minds with the truths which the sermons of the day have set forth. During this last exercise,

the youngest daughter has fallen asleep, the youngest boy has tried to catch flies, and the rest of her audience have paid some heed. It is now time to close the religious exercises of the Sabbath by reading the Sacred Scriptures and joining in family prayer. This service has the truth and fervor of humble worshippers. Piety and love are laid on the altar; and the concluding Amen testifies to a sabbath spent in the fear of God and the love of man. The father and sons now repair to the barn, and the milking is soon finished. By this time the sun has set; and, as if conscience had set with it, any secular pursuit now seems half allowable. The wood for to-morrow's washing is carried in; the great kettle is filled with water; the kindlings are put in the corner; and every thing is ready for the earliest start. The mother and daughters, who have not dared to wash the breakfast or dinner things while the sun was up, now begin that operation; and then get all the clothes together which must be washed, and put them in soak. The great kettle is now hung on; and it almost seems as if Monday morning had arrived. The eldest son knows it has not, and knows there is a Sunday evening yet to come; and, full of silent thoughts and tender emotions, he slips out, in full dress, at seven o'clock, to "drop in "accidentally at neighbor A.'s, whose blooming daughter of seventeen he likes to look at. If he can get her to go and help him sing at Mr. B.'s for an hour with some of the Sunday choir, why, then what? Any visiting on Sunday evening, except for courting or practising singing by the choir, being positively forbidden, it somehow always happened that the choir would meet on Sunday evening; and there was sure to be a remarkably full attendance! Thus the "singing-school" was the Newport and Saratoga of Meadford. Recreation of some sort every human being must have, if he would thrive. He claims it as Nature's law. Our Puritan Fathers needed recreation to lubricate the joints of life. While they have been singing at Mr. B.'s, the log-hut on the banks of the Mystic has not been without its music. The parents have led, and the children followed, in some of the good old psalm-tunes which have come down from former generations. At half-past eight o'clock, the candle is put out; and the day of worship and rest has ended to the farmer's family, except to the eldest son, who, at half-past nine, opens that door which is never fastened, and quietly steals to bed without disturbing the sleepers. His mother heard him, but did not speak.

We are sure this is but a rough sketch of the manners and life of the early settlers in Medford; but we hope it may suffice to show those salient traits of industry and economy, of truthfulness and devotion, for which they were so clearly distinguished. We must look through their eyes to see them aright. They were content if they could gain a comfortable subsistence, and have the opportunity of worshipping God according to the dictates of their own consciences. Their condition, their dwellings, their dress, their facilities, their relationships, how different from ours! Deputy-Governor Dudley, March 12, 1631, writes thus: "Having yet no table, nor other room to write in than by the fireside, upon my knee, in this sharp winter, &c." If the deputy-governor had no more accommodations than these, what must have been the deprivations of the rest of the people? For many of our modern superfluities they had no names in their vocabulary. So late as our day, we have seen aged persons who have assured us that they never tasted tea or coffee until they were over twenty-one years of age. In 1666, tea, in England, was sixty shillings sterling a pound, and was not used much in America till 1750. It was nearly the same with coffee. Any cooking which required sugar was too expensive for our early ancestors; and the Sunday suit of clothes went through a whole life. For vocal music, they had the volunteer solo from the cradle; for instrumental, they had the sputter of the churn the scraping of the wool-cards, the whiz of the spinning-wheel, and the jerk-rattle of the weaving-loom. Their sofa was the "settle," and their springseat was the soft side of an oaken plank; their carpets were clean white sand; their ceilings, rough boards and rafters; and their parlor was at once kitchen, bedroom, and hall. We have seen what their clothing was; and it was the product of their own looms and knitting-needles. The men were not encumbered with suspenders, or dickies, or umbrellas; nor were the women sighing after diamonds, operaglasses, or Cologne water. How expensive, vexatious, and useless would have been long female dresses bedraggled every moment in the grass! Fashion, which is the labor of little minds, and not the repose of great ones, had not become the fickle tyrant we now see it. They aimed at health; and the children who were born weak and feeble could not be kept alive, as they are by modern skill: hence the robustness of those who survived. We come, then, to the conclusion, that moderate labor, simple diet, sufficient sleep, regular habits, and

mental peace, each helped to prolong life and secure contentment. Yes, we say contentment; for, if any one should think these humble annals descriptive only of ennui or thraldom or stupidity, we must call it a hasty and false conclusion. When the human mind really desires improvement, it converts rocks and trees, animals and men, trials and joys, into books of philosophy and bibles of truth. By a chemistry which it cannot explain, the hungry and thirsty soul turns every thing into educational meaning and moral nutriment. All that is thus gained are reliable facts and available knowledge, which will stand the test of life and experience, while rainbow theories fade and vanish with the dissolving cloud. fathers had strong common sense; and, while they were devoted to a Puritan faith and an exclusive church, they did not lose their humanity; but the very necessities of their condition brought them to the most practical results, and to the soundest philosophy of life.

Our

CHAPTER XIV.

FIRE DEPARTMENT.

THE first action of the town relating to fires was May 12, 1760, when it was voted that two fire-hooks be provided for the use of the town.

March 7, 1763: Voted to raise £26. 13s. 4d. for procuring a fire-engine, if the rest can be obtained by subscription. Hon. Isaac Royal, Stephen Hall, Esq., and Captain Seth Blodget, were chosen a committee to procure the engine and receive the subscriptions.

This resulted in the purchase of an engine called the "Grasshopper," which was placed near the market. This engine was removed to the West End, April 1, 1799 (when another had been obtained), and was kept in the barn attached to the "Angier House." It is yet in existence, and is sometimes employed in pumping water into vessels.

March 11, 1765: For the first time, nine fire-wards and twelve engine-men were appointed by vote of the town.